An Artist's Obsession
You've just entered the college of your dreams, and everything is going ideally in your life. Until an artist finds his ideal model, and you are that model. This Is Our Story My beloved, Do you remember the day we met? I suppose you couldn't since we didn't actually speak until weeks after. But I saw you. And just by seeing you, I knew you had to be the only one. As I've told you before, I've always had trouble making friends, much less finding someone to share my life with. But that changed when I saw you. Even before we spoke, after I saw you, you were all I thought about. I spent hours in my dorm (I paid the fee to room alone, for my art and studies) during the two weeks between having seen you and talking to you drawing your face and every curve of your body, trying to get it perfect-perfect like the real thing. The drawings never became as beautiful as you, no matter how many sleepless nights I spent on shading your lips or eyes. I never gave up, however. I continued drawing parts of you separately, in hopes that if I could create a perfect imitation of you on the page, I could easily do the rest. I was mistaken. I had to see you again, but I had a problem. I didn't know your name. Thinking quickly, I remembered there was a picture-register with all the faces and names of the freshmen. I could find you in a matter seconds, since I remembered your face more clearly than I remembered anything else in my life, in fact I did find you, and your hall and dorm number. I had to see you again, just to observe you. It wasn't hard, since your dorm leader would let anyone in without a cardkey, as long as they claimed to be coming to study, so I did just that. I never did study for that psychology exam. But I digress, since a moment spent with you is worth sacrificing for. Your room was unlocked. I walked in and sat on the foot of your bed. Last night, you stayed awake studying until you fell backwards onto your pillow, exhausted and unable to keep your wonderful green eyes open. How did you make your brown hair stay so perfectly behind your head, and on your thin shoulders, even lying down? I had my sketchbook, so I could draw you with my model in front my eyes. My pencil moved gently across the page, I could feel the inspiration running from my eyes into my fingers down onto the page where your divine form displayed itself in a way I'd never before been able to capture. I captured your pale face, your deep-forest green eyes, your soft brown hair, your well-proportioned torso and your delicate hands, but I didn't have time to finish. Your roommate knocked and shouted, "Are you decent?" I quickly ducked under your bed, glad that I had spent so much time to you, and that I had the opportunity for more, even to be able to see you awake again. She walked in so loudly, so ungracefully, so unlike you, and I couldn't help but feel disgusted. You are even more wonderful to be able to tolerate such a lesser creature; it shows how divine you truly are. She said something of a party she wanted you to attend, but still half-asleep, you were unsure of what you felt pointing energy toward that night. How wonderful your voice! There's no comparison between you and any other woman. You are a goddess among demons. As you continued speaking of how well you had slept, and describing a dream of a man standing over you, I realized something I'll never forget. I realized that you desire me as much as I desire you. How is that possible, my beloved? Of course it must be true, you spoke of me, you dreamt of me. Those must mean you feel even as I do in the way of affection. Then, just knowing how much you cared about me sustained me as I waited for you to depart. I knew that if I emerged while you were still there, I could startle you, even though you loved me, you were not aware that I was in your room, though you knew I was, you knew from your dreams that I was there to see you, to get to know you in the only way we could get to know each other, for I am much too shy to confront you face-to-face without first obtaining your love. As you left the room, a smile stretched across my face because I knew I'd see you later that night when I spent hours more trying to perfect my depiction of you. The door closed, and I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. Between my excitement from drawing your upper half and about your roommate entering, I'd forgotten your legs, your smooth, slick, ivory thighs, legs and feet. I cursed myself and stabbed sharply and deeply into my arm with my pencil so that the wound would remind me of my stupidity for many years, so that I didn't forget to admire your lower half again. I slowly and quietly crawled out from underneath your bed, as not to arouse suspicion from any noises I made. I pulled off my shirt and unbuttoned my pants so that I could re-do them as I stepped out the door so that any passerby would make their own assumptions about us and refrain from questioning my motives for being there. Walking back into the lobby, I waved to your dorm leader, smiled and headed through the door. Two or three weeks later, which was only a few days ago, I'd finally gotten your upper half perfectly done, as beautiful as the original. I ditched every class I had, even the ones I liked, and took caffeine pills to gain more time and keep my focus. There was a problem with drawing you, though. I could ONLY do your upper half; I had no idea what your lower half looked like. I do know the basic form of a female's lower half, but you were not and will never be an ordinary female, I knew that yours was beyond compare and that I had to see it to be able to do it justice in my work. I had to see you again. The next day, I heard guys shouting in the hallway to a boy in the room next door to mine. "Hey, man, get up, there's a party at Beta Sigma Alpha in half an hour and all the chicks on campus will be there!" All of the girls on campus…You would be there as well, obviously. I made the decision without much consideration, since I knew there was no other choice but to see you again, so I pulled on a hoodie and a gray pair of jeans, slipped on some old black leather shoes and walked to the Beta Sigma Alpha frat house. The party had already started, although it wasn't supposed to for another half hour, the kegs had arrived early and the brothers were enjoying the first sips. I picked up a red plastic cup, sat down on the front lawn amidst all the guys chattering on about their girlfriends and crushes or one-night stands, and I was disgusted. None of those girls they described even deserved to belong to the same species as you. I knew that I had to finish my work or the world outside of this town would never see your perfection. Two hours into the party, you and your intoxicated roommate walked up. You refused to drink, but your roommate insisted. You quickly became drunk since your body had so little fat. I saw my chance to see your lower half, and I approached you. "Hello," I said. "Why don't we go inside to a nice bedroom and become more familiar with one another?" Your roommate glared at me, she'd gotten drunk even before coming here, and had no problem telling me to "find a girl with lower standards." How wonderful your righteous indignation was! You quipped back to her that all men deserve a chance! I knew it wasn't because you believed ALL men deserve a chance, you just knew who I was from your dream, you remembered me. You grabbed my hand, stumbling a bit, and I led you into the house. The hallways had plenty of mirrors for hedonistic, narcissistic frat boys to stare at themselves in, but they allowed me to see you in all different, wonderful angles as we walked. We found an empty bedroom after numerous tries, and I guided you to the bed, where you began to pull down your black mini-skirt. Your bottom half was wonderful, so divine, so perfect. I felt the greatest passion in my life, but I knew I needed to wait until marriage to consummate our love. I told you about it, and you understood. No one else has ever needed to know that, and I doubt they would've understand if I had to tell them, but in your compassion, you did immediately. I asked you if you would allow me to sketch your lower half, and you refused. I respected that, but I later realized you had no right to deny me what was mine. I felt like explaining that I had spent so much time on your upper half, it would be a tragedy not to be able to work on your lower half as well. You seemed confused at first, but then you remembered, you remembered me from your dream and asked if I was the one who stood over your bed. I told you the truth, that I was. You were startled, more than I would've ever expected, and you pulled your skirt back on, threw me off you, and ran out of the house, stumbling away back to your dorm with your roommate. I knew I still had to draw your lower half, and it didn't take long to come up with a plan and get together the tools I'd need. About 2:00 am that night, I knocked on the doors of your dorm, and the dorm leader came to them, and told me to go away, that visiting hours were over and would resume at 9:00 am. I couldn't wait that long. I went around to your window, and gently pulled it open. I figured you knew I was coming! Thank you for leaving it cracked for me! I eased in your room. I slowly, cautiously stepped over to your bed, and pulled out my tools. I gently, yet firmly place the hacksaw on your hips, and pushed down, like a gentle guillotine, and you came in half so quickly, so conveniently, I could barely believe it. You woke up, and tried to scream, but I'd already put a gag in your mouth. I know you truly wanted to be with me, so I made sure not even you could mess it up. I separated your upper half from your lower half, and slipped your lower half into the bag I brought with me for just that purpose. How I wish I'd had room for your top half as well! I climbed back out of your window, and went back to my own room, and began to work. It was about six hours before I got a knock on my door. It was the police. I went peacefully, even though they could see your perfectly toned and shaped legs on a pedestal in front of my drawing desk. I continue drawing even though they had me. I knew I had to finish, and I did just that second before they handcuffed me. Your portrait had to be finished, and the end result was so wonderful. So wonderful. They have me in prison now, but they say you refused to press charges or testify, I knew you would! You probably don't have that beautiful body anymore, or any body for that matter, but you'll always live on through my art. I've finally completed my perfect drawing of you, and I've enclosed it with this account of us, I want more than anything in my life for you to enjoy it, it is truly our child. The best part of all of this, I must admit though, is knowing that once I'm out and come back to you, you'll never be able to run from me, no matter how hard you try or how much you might convince yourself you want to. Just as I have controlled you by putting you on paper, so do I control your heart by writing our story down for you to have as a record and reminder of our love. All of me for all of you, Your beloved Category:Mental Illness Category:Dismemberment